


It's Not Goodbye, It's I'll See You Later

by makenalei



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Family, Long-Distance Relationship, Romance, Secret Relationship, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:32:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1911087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makenalei/pseuds/makenalei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An enlistment draft calls all those that are capable to a war that Westeros is slowly losing. Saying goodbye is never easy, and coming home in one piece is even harder.Robb and Jon, both forced to enlist, face the fight of their lives as they struggle to survive in a deadly war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He scans the crowd one last time for her. Amongst the mass of people, she would have stood out. She always stood out in a crowd, there was just something about her that drew your eye. 

She isn’t there.

His heart sinks and disappointment sets in. They had said their goodbyes last night, and in the morning she was gone and he had to leave. She had told him that she wouldn’t be there, for good reason, but he had hoped.

Hoping never did him much good.

He finds his family watching as they take their last steps of freedom. Sixteen-year-old Arya is glaring at him, her grief at his departure masked by anger and betrayal. Bran, the wisest of the bunch, is trying to talk to her to no avail. Rickon, the youngest who doesn’t quite understand what’s going on, is crying on his mother’s shoulder. Catlyn Stark stands tall and proud amongst the myriad of crying mothers. She would never shed a tear in public, it wasn’t ladylike. She would break down later in private.

Ned Stark wears a proud smile but his eyes are wary and tired. He’s done this too many times for too many people. He’s been on the other side as well, the only one to come back whole it seemed. 

“She didn’t show?” His best friend, fellow soldier, and near brother, Robb, questioned from his side.

“What?” Robb doesn’t know about her. Robb couldn’t know about her, not yet. 

“I know you’re seeing someone, Jon” Robb sighed, “Thought you could drop the act for this”

“No, she’s not here” He told him. Robb clapped him hard on the shoulder.

“If it makes you feel any better, Sansa didn’t show either” It didn’t make him feel any better. It made it worse. Sansa was Robb’s younger sister, only two years they’re junior. 

“We said our goodbyes yesterday, but I still hoped” He shook his head. “Come on, one last goodbye to the family,”

The Starks are not his blood; they are just the ones that were kind enough to take him in at the age of ten when his mother passed away. He had known Robb since kindergarten though. They were best friends since day one it seemed. He had never been more thankful for that friendship then anything in his life. It had saved him and it had given him a family.

“Divide and conquer” Robb whispered as they approached the group. Rickon flings himself from his mother’s arms, towards Robb, burying his wet face in Robb’s shoulder. Rickon doesn’t understand what’s happened, but he’s knows that they are going away for a long time.

He turned to Arya and Bran.

“You’re not going to give me a goodbye hug, little wolf?” He resorts to her nickname, hoping to ease her anger.

“No” She huffed. 

“I will” Bran hugged him tightly. He was twelve now and smarter then most kids his age. He knew that there was a possibility Robb and he would not return. “Stay safe, Jon”

“You too, little brother” He told him, ruffling his hair. “Watch out for those mountains” 

“They can’t beat me” Bran scoffed. The twelve year old loved to climb so his parents had signed him up for an outdoor adventure camp for the summer.

“Here, Jon” Robb passed him Rickon, who immediately buried his head in his shoulder, just as he did with Robb. Robb gripped Bran next.

“Hey, don’t cry, buddy” He told the sobbing four year old, “You have to be strong, little man”

“I am strong” Rickon mumbled, never one to turn down a challenge.

“Are you?” He questioned, tickling his sides until he laughed.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Rickon giggled.

“Good, cause I need you to do something for me, something really important. Can you handle it?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, see your sister?” He pointed to Arya. Rickon nodded, “She’s angry now, but later, she’s going to be sad. Super sad because she’ll miss us so much because Robb and I, we’re awesome. She’ll be sobbing over us, crying into her pillow”

“Shut up! I will not!” Arya retorted.

“You need to give her lots of hugs and kisses. Lots of sloppy wet kisses like Shaggy gives you, okay?”

“Okay!” Rickon nods seriously.

“Why don’t we practice?” Before Arya can protest, Rickon is in her arms, licking her cheek and hugging her shoulders.

“Ew, Jon!” Arya passes Rickon to Bran and sighs. She then knocks the wind out him in a hug so fierce he needs a second to catch his breath. 

“Don’t do anything stupid” Arya mutters against his middle.

“I won’t”

“Good” She nods, “I’ll miss you”

“I’ll miss you more, little wolf,” He tells her, rubbing small circles on her back. She’s not crying, that’s not her style. “Stay out of trouble, yeah?”

“Me? Trouble?” Arya laughs, “You have the wrong Stark”

“It’s almost time, boys” Ned Stark interrupts them. “Last call. Robb, come here, son”

Robb goes to his father and Catlyn Stark beckons him towards her. She hugs him nearly as tight as Arya. They were never too close as he grew up. He had had a mother, and had resented her for a while, and she resented him because his mother had been the high school sweetheart of Ned Stark. As he grew older, he saw how much she did for him, and she realized that he wasn’t his mother, and they became friends. 

“Watch out for each other” She whispers in his ear as she hugs him tight, “I’ll pray for your safe return, dear”

“Thank you, Mrs. Stark” He tells her, breaking away, “Thank you for all that you have done for me”

“It was a pleasure” She replied, “Now go say goodbye to your father”

He went to the only father figure he had known in his life, and as he looked at him, he had no idea what to say. So they just hugged. It wasn’t even a manly hug; it was a tight, gripping hug that lasted a long time.

“I’m proud of you, son” Ned told him, “I’m proud of the man you became and what you are doing for your country”

“Thank you, dad” He told him. He wanted to cry, he really did. But men didn’t cry, and he was a man, a soldier about to go to war.

“I’ll tell you what I told Robb. Keep an eye on each other and stay safe. Remember to write us when you can, and for the love of god, come home in one piece. Don’t be stupid, know when you’ve lost and when to retreat,”

“I’ll do my best, sir”

“You’re smart, Jon, look out for Robb. He’s hot headed and impulsive. Don’t be to hard on yourself either, I have Robb looking out for that” He chuckled.

“No promises on that one” He told him.

“We love you and we are proud of you,” He repeated. “Now it’s time to go”

“Come on, bro” Robb grabbed his duffel, passing him his as well. He tossed it over his shoulder.

He scanned the crowd one last time, looking for her. She isn’t there; she was never going to be.

“I’m sorry, man” Robb slung his arm over his shoulder, “I really am”

“Yeah” He muttered but his voice sounded thick. “Me too,”

They turn away from their family and towards the turnstile ahead of them. There’s a line of stony-faced soldiers, struggling not to break down as they leave their families behind them. No one had wanted to enlist, the draft had made them. The war to the North was increasing and it was starting to affect their country. He had been considering enlisting after getting his university degree, but hadn’t given it much thought beyond a resume enhancer. Robb had no plans to enlist, but he had adjusted well. That was how they found themselves marching into the unknown at the young age of 22. 

“Jon!” Someone calls his name. He turns, looking towards his family. He thought that it sounded like Arya. But they’re not looking at him. They’re looking to the left. “Jon!” His name sounds again and he searches the crowd, his heart now racing.

She’s there, to the left of his family. She pushing past the masses and sprinting towards him. She’s wearing those ridiculous high heels and a light blue dress. It brings out the blue of her eyes, making them seem like a clear summer’s sky. Her auburn curls cascade loosely down her back and sway with the breeze as she runs towards him. She’s a vision.

It’s like tunnel vision as he watches her run towards him. He can’t see anyone else around them, just her. He can’t hear anyone either. All that he hears is the rushing of blood in his ears.

He manages to drop his duffle just in time to catch her, his hands going to her waist as she crashes into him; her warm pink lips crashing down on his own rough ones. Her soft hand cradle his cheek while the other cards itself through his unruly curls. She tastes of coffee and something sweet, probably a lemon pastry.

She pulls always, gasping for breath. Her blue eyes are glassy and red rimmed as a single tear makes its way down her cheek. He reaches up to wipe it away, gently caressing her cheek. She puts her own hand over his. She lets out a broken sob as she looks at him, more tears falling from her blue eyes.

“Don’t go” She begs, “Don’t leave me,”

“San-”

“I love you,” She whispers softly. She had never said those words to him before. He didn’t want her to say them now just because he was leaving and might not come back.

“You don’t have t-”

“No, I do. I love you, Jon Snow, only you” She tells him, staring him straight in the eyes.

“I love you more,” He tells her with a grin. 

“Impossible” She scoffs. He chuckles and then she’s kissing him again, her mouth warm and wet and welcoming. She’s soft and pliant in his arms. Their kiss is sweet and gentle, a promise of more days yet to come.

He breaks away this time, hugging her closely as he buries his face in her hair, breathing in her lemon vanilla scent, memorizing the feel of her body pressed against his. He can feel her tears soaking through his shirt, and her thin frame shakes slightly.

“I have to go now” He whispers against her head, “It’s time to say goodbye”

“It’s not goodbye” She tells him, pulling away and wiping the tears from her cheeks, “It’s I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah” He nods, fighting back his own tears now. “I’ll see you later”

“Don’t be a hero” She whispers, “Just come home to me”

“I’ll do my best” He repeats the words he had told Ned Stark a few minutes ago. “I love you, Sansa Stark. Don’t forget me”

“I love you, too” She murmurs, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss him one last time before pulling away.

“My sister?” Robb finally questions. It was a wonder he had stayed silent all that time. “My sister, Jon?”

“Shut up, Robb” Sansa murmurs, hugging Robb next. Robb glares at him over Sansa’s shoulder as she hugs him.

“I love her, Robb,” He tells his best friend.

“You love my little sister” Robb shakes his head, “How did I miss this?”

“I love him too, Robb” Sansa pulls away from their hug. “Don’t let him die, okay? And don’t you do anything stupid either. Promise me, Robb”

“I promise, Sans” Robb tells her, “Good thing we have a long flight, buddy. There’s a lot we need to discuss”

“You both need to go” Sansa whispers, “I love you both”

“Love you too, little sis” Robb empathizes the words.

“I’ll see you later, Sansa”

“Not if I see you first” She retorts with a watery smile. She hugs them both again before turning and walking back to their family. 

“Let’s go, man” Robb turns him back around to face the turnstile. Most of the others had gotten through already. They are the last few to go through. He turns around one last time to see his family.

He looks at them now, at the family that raised him, only for him to steal away their little girl. Arya looks pissed, Catlyn looks surprised, but Ned Stark has eyes only for his daughter. 

His last glimpse of Sansa is her being engulfed in a hug by her father, shaking as she cried. Ned looked up, meeting his eyes before nodding.

He nods back and turns, leaving them behind to risk his life in a war they were losing.


	2. Saying Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't supposed to end up like this. They were supposed to come back together.

The black dress hung loose on her thin frame. She lost weight over the past two weeks. Two weeks ago, it would have fit her perfectly. It would have looked stunning on her hourglass figure, but now it looked like a potato sack, ill fit. It swallowed her whole. The black drained what little color she had. She looked about as dead as he actually was. She knew her eyes were baggy and that her hair was lank. She knew that she looked like the one they would burying, not him. Two weeks ago, life wasn't perfect, but it wasn't in shambles either. Now, her life is like a broken mirror, scattered across an endless floor. Pieces everywhere and no one to help her put them back together. They're too busy with their own grief. Together, yet separate, they mourn the loss of him. 

 

" _The death of someone we love and care about is like the death of part of us. No one else will ever call out from within us quite the same responses, the same feelings or actions or ideas. Their death is an ending of one part of a story.Lord as we look back over his life, we ask what we have received, what we can appropriate and continue on in our own lives and what must be laid to rest. Our love for him reminds us that our sharing in one another's lives brings both support and pain. Our being parted from him reminds us of our own mortality and that your love is enduring,"_

Throughout the entire service, she tried to block everything out. She could't stand to hear Arya's choked sobs, or Gendry's gentle shushing. Bran tried to remain stoic but tears coursed down his cheeks. Her mother sat stoney faced, her hand gripping her father's. He was the worst of them. His usually stern faced facade was cracked open. His grey eyes were lost in grief and he sobbed louder then Arya. The sight of her own father sobbing like a child was enough to keep her from doing the same. She focused on Rickon, who was too young to understand it all.

And then there were the words of the septon, the generic words that he spoke during all funerals that she happened to actually hear. Through the dull ringing in her ears, she heard him and they rang true. His death had left an empty void in the story of her life, a character she could never replace. Her story ended when he died. Her fairytale was shattered. 

_"Lord, time's tide may wash his footprints from the shore, but not our love for him nor the influence of his life upon our own, nor the ways in which they will ever be a sign for us of those things which really matter-which are eternal. Hear this prayer for your love's sake,"_

She would never forget him though. Time's tide as the septon said, would never wash him away in her mind. She had a feeling she would never forget him so long as she lived. She was determined to remember every single detail about him, from the color and shape of his eyes, to the way he laughed, and the feeling of him holding her tight as she said what would be her last goodbye. 

People got up now and spoke about him. They made them laugh and they made them cry. Some were heartfelt, some were embarrassing, and others were made to lighten the day. The portrayed him as the man he was, an honest, respectable, intelligent man that was taken from them much too soon. A few military friends spoke on his valor and his bravery, how he died fighting for their country. They spoke of him being a hero.

But none of it matter. No matter how admirable he had been in life, he was gone now. He had left them, had left her.

Her father, brothers, and Gendry carried out his casket, the shiny wooden surface shining brightly in the sunlight. It was empty, there wasn't enough left of him to bury. Bits and pieces. Red mist. She had googled it, been sick over reading what he was reduced to. It was a gorgeous day, a stark contrast to her feelings. The sun was warm against her back. She put her sunglasses on, thankful that they would not get to see her cry anymore. She walked next to her mother, their arms looped together in strength. 

"Just walk" Her mother whispered quietly, "It'll all be over soon"

"I know" She fought the urge to cry again. The funeral made things so final. He was really dead. He wasn't coming back, not now, not ever. She wasn't sure she wanted the funeral to be over, as horrible as that sounded.

They drove through town, everyone lining the streets to pay their respects to the first soldier to fall from their small little town. They waved flags and saluted him but it meant nothing to her. Her father gripped her hand quickly before pulling away to hold her mother's. All too soon they were pulling into the graveyard, his final resting place.

She sat in front with her parents, between the two of them. Someone had given her a blue rose to hold. Everyone knew she loved blue roses. A soldier went through the motions of folding the flag and presenting it to them with a solemn face. Her father managed to pull himself together to take it. Her mother looked away. It was usually presented to the mother or the wife of the fallen soldier. But given the circumstances, her father stepped in.

_"In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our gods, we commend to Seven our brother, our son, and our friend. We commit his body to the ground; earth to earth; ashes to ashes, dust to dust. May the gods bless him and keep him, may they make their faces to shine upon him and be gracious unto him and give him peace"_

With the septon's final prayer read, the casket was lowered into the ground. It was painstakingly slow. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest as the casket disappeared inch by inch until she could no longer see it.

Her father stood first and grabbed the shovel. He picked up a large pile of freshly dug earth and threw it into the grave, covering the casket. He helped her mother up, helped her get some dirt on the shovel, and helped her bury the casket further. She was supposed to go next, but she froze. She couldn't move. Arya stepped up in her place, Gendry helping her. 

Bran and Rickon helped each other as well, shoveling dirt into the grave, covering his casket for the rest of eternity.

The soldier that had folded the flag was the one to help her. His name was Grenn, he had been a close friend of his.

"He loved you very much, Miss Stark" The soldier whispered as he held out his hand to her, "He would you want you to get closure"

"I don't know what he would have wanted" She replied as she took his hand, "He's dead, isn't he?" She took the shovel and managed to fling a small amount of dirt over his casket before she broke away from the rest of them, tears spilling down her cheeks. She clutched the blue rose to her chest, sobbing his name as she struggled to breath.

She couldn't stay there any longer, she was suffocating. She went back to their car and asked the driver to take her someplace else. Jory agreed after ensuring everyone else would fit in the other car. He drove slowly, the music softly playing in the background. He didn't speak, didn't offer his condolences, he just drove. Without even confirming where she wanted to go, he took her there. To the army hospital where she had claimed his body at the morgue, where she had been forced to identify him by a birthmark of his leg foot. If she hadn't seen that, she doesn't think she would have been able to identify him, his face was a mess. She had gone by herself. She was the only one in the capital. It still gave her nightmares. 

"Miss Stark" The nurse greets, surprised to see her, "I thought the funeral was today"

"It was" She whispered, "I couldn't stay"

"It gets easier to remember the good instead of the bad" The nurse told her softly, "If you need anything, let me know"

"Thank you" She whispered. Her feet took her to her destination on their own accord, much as Jory had known to drive her here. There was only one thing that would make all of this seem easier, the only thing that could take away even a small portion of her pain. She entered the room and took the seat next to the bed, gripping the cool hand of the patient before her.

"Any change?" She asked the nurse checking his vitals.

"I'm afraid not, Miss Stark" She answered, "He'll wake up when he's ready" She wanted him to wake up, she did with every single fiber of her being, but when he did wake up, he would be waking up in a world where his best friend no longer existed. She would have to tell him that they had buried his best friend, that they laid him to rest, forever lost to them. She would have to explain that he died in a blitz attack just two weeks after he was nearly killed in a mine field. That while he was in a medically induced coma to heal, he was heading out to avenge his friend's almost death. Two weeks, and they both almost died. The doctors made no promises that he would wake up either. Perhaps it would better that way, to spare him the pain.

She felt sick even thinking about that. As much as she dreaded telling him that he was dead, she dreaded losing them both.

"You need to wake up and get better" She whispered as she brushed his hair away from his pale forehead. It was longer now, he would need a trim, "You need to wake up. I need you. The family needs you. We're falling apart here. We love you. I love you" She wiped away her tears, trying to control herself, "I can't lose my brother and you in the same month, Jon" She whispered, kissing his forehead, "It's not goodbye, Jon. You have to wake up"

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wakes up to a world he never expected.

The first thing he notices is that his bed is harder then it ever was. It felt like he was sleeping on the floor or on the couch. Maybe he passed out drunk, but he doesn't remembering drinking with Robb last night. He can't remember anything really. He must have had too much. But as he blinks open eyes that feel as if they haven't been open in days, he realizes he isn't at his place or Robb's, but a white room. He blinks again and tries to gain his wits. Everything seems surreal, like he's watching through a screen. 

He brings a hand up to scrub the sleep from his eyes and notices the IV's and ID bracelet. He's in a hospital. His hand is hooked up to an IV pole and his chest has wires coming out of it. There are mostly healed cuts and bruises on his left arm. His right arm is under a head of red auburn curls. It must be Mrs. Stark, he thinks, thinking of Robb's mother. Gods, they must have really gotten into trouble this time if she's asleep in his hospital room. He was going to kill his friend if he had gotten him that drunk.

"Mrs. Stark" He whispered then winces in pain. His throat was so parched, so dry. It felt like sand paper, "Mrs. Stark" He managed to pull his hand free of her grip and shook her shoulder. 

"Hmm? What?" She startled awake, or rather, Sansa Stark startled awake. It wasn't Robb's mother that was asleep at his bedside, but his little sister, Sansa. Her blue eyes were wide with confusion before she focused on him. Those big blue eyes went wide as her pink lips went slack, "Jon" She whispered. To his confusion, tears started to well up in her eyes and she threw herself at him, hugging him tightly as she sobbed, "Yes," She whispered, confusing him further. She was still sobbing though, repeating yes as she did so. 

"Ssh, Sansa, what's wrong?" He managed to push her away for a second, holding her at arms length while she glared at him in hurt or confusion. He couldn't tell, Sansa had always been a mystery to him, "Sansa, why are you here? Why am I here?" He questioned. 

"You were in an accident. There was a mine field" She spoke slowly, as if she was trying to explain it to Rickon, her two year old brother. He didn't understand though, she must have been mistaken.

"A mine field?" He questioned. He wouldn't be anywhere near a mine field, what the hell had happened? "Why was I there?"

"The war, Jon" She told him, "You don't remember, do you?"

"A war? "He questioned slowly, now the one confused. He hadn't gone to war, had he? He was 19, but he doubted Mr. Stark would have allowed that. Robb wouldn't have allowed it either, "What war, Sansa?"

"Do you remember me, Jon?" She questioned, "Do you know who I am?"

"Of course I know who you are. I've known you since I was a boy"

"Who am I Jon?" She whispered. He didn't know if he was imagining it or not, but she looked scared, petrified really.

"You're Sansa, Robb's little sister" He answered, "Sansa, what is it? I don't really feel like playing your mind games today"

"How old are you?" She questioned quietly. She had a single tear tracking down her cheek. Why was she crying? 

"19" He answered, "You know this Sansa"

"You're 24, Jon" Sansa whispered softly, "You turned 24 four days ago. I should, I should get a doctor and call everyone else. I'll uhm, I'll just go do that, yeah" And she raced out of the room, her sneakers squeaking against the tile floor.

There was no way that he was 24. The last memories he had were of being 19 and starting his sophomore year of college. He and Robb roomed together off campus. Robb must be playing a trick. He had to have drank too much last night and now Robb was just getting back at him, it had to be that. He had no idea how he roped Sansa into it, but that had to be the answer. There was no way he had been injured in a mine explosion in a war that wasn't even happening.

"Ranger Snow?" He looked up at the sound of his last name, but the title confused him. He wasn't a Ranger, "I'm Dr. Ryman. It's good to see you awake, lad"

"What happened?" He questioned, "I think my friend Robb's trying to play a trick on me, sir. I just, I drank too much, didn't I? Robb's just getting back at me for putting him outside, right?"

"Do you know what year it is, Mr. Snow?"

"Of course" He answered, "2010"

"And what month is it?" He thought about it. He couldn't remember. He couldn't even remember the last thing he did. Everything was just blank.

"I don't know"

"What is the last memory that you have?" He questioned as he checked his eyes and pulse points. The man had cold hands, even with the gloves on.

"Uh" He thought about it. He thought until his brain hurt from thinking about it, "I had an econ test" He answered. He had studied for weeks for it, losing more hten his fair share of sleep. Maybe it brought on a break down.

"I'm afraid that you're not being pranked, Ranger Snow" Dr. Ryman told him as he pulled away, "It's September of 2014. You were injured in a mine field explosion in the Frostfangs. You've been in a coma for a month"

"What?" He questioned, stunned. He had to be lying. He had to, "No, that can't be, Dr. Ryman"

"Here" The man picked up a newspaper from the chair Sansa had been sitting in and passed it to him. It showed some pompous ass he had never heard of, apparently running for mayor of a Reach district. In the corner, he read the date. September 12th, 2014, "It would seem that you have a case of amnesia, Ranger Snow. In your case, this isn't unexpected. You were lucky to live at all"

"Is Sansa still here?" He questioned. If she was there, Robb would be somewhere in the area. He had to talk to Robb. He would settle for Mr. Stark too encase Robb had to go back to school. A full month was a long time to be in the hospital.

"Miss Stark was notifying her family" The doctor told him, "She's a good woman, Ranger Snow. Comes here everyday and reads that paper to you. My nurses usually have to kick her out since she stays all day

"Could you ask her to come back in?" He questioned. Even if he and Sansa weren't good friends, he needed someone right now. He felt like the air was being forced out of his lungs. It was just too much, everything was too much.

"Of course" The doctor nodded and left to find Sansa. They both returned a second later. Sansa looked worse then before, her eyes bluer and redder. She had to have been crying over him. 

"Hey" She whispered, "I'm so sorry, Jon. Everyone's on their way, but it'll take some time. Mum, dad and the boys were upstate at Winterfell so they won't arrive utnil tomorrow, and Arya's in Braavos, so she'll be at least two days,"

"And Robb?" He questioned.

"He's not coming, Jon" She told him softly, reaching out to grip his hand. Had he and Robb had a falling out over something?  He hated not knowing what was going on when everyone else seemed to know.

"Did we have a falling out?" He questioned, "Was it about Talisa?" Talisa, or Tally, was the girl Robb was "in love" with. Talisa was just using Robb for the fame and money though. Stark was an old family name. Robb couldn't see it though. He had told Theon his idea, but the wanker had just brushed him off. He would kill Theon if he told Robb.

"Talisa was four years ago" Sansa reminded him, "She was a gold digger. You told Robb about her stealing that necklace and he dumped her the very next day. We were all pleased with the outcome of that one"

"I don't remember" He admitted, "But if it isn't Tally, why isn't he coming?"

"A year ago, a draft notice was sent out, Jon. It called all able bodied adult males to enlist and join the effort against the northern wilding tribes that were actively attacking the walls and pillaging the North. You and Robb were deployed to the Frostfangs" She spoke slowly and quietly, her eyes avoiding his. He knew where this was going though. It was the reason he was injured. It had to be the reason Robb wasn't there.

"Is he okay, Sansa? Is it serious?"

"No, he's not okay, Jon" Sansa shook her head, throwing her auburn curls around, "I don't know how to tell you this"

"No' His gut sank as he realized what she was avoiding, why she had seemed so sad and confused. She had to tell him that somehow his best friend wasn't there anymore, that he was dead in a war he didn't even remember. A small part of him called her a liar, convinced himself that she was mistaken, but the larger part knew that she spoke the truth. The Stark family was divided, his death must have done that. He knew Cat and Ned would never leave the two girls in the capital unless they needed to get away.

"He died a week after you were injured, Jon. He's gone"

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

_"He died a week after you were injured, Jon. He's gone,” She whispered, watching as his face distorted in pain and grief. She watched as tears fell from his devastated grey eyes and his weak frame shook with sobs,_

 

_“Gods, no” He moaned, shaking his head, “No, you’re wrong”_

 

_“Jon” She whispered, reaching out and gripping his hand gently. He pulled it away quickly. It felt like he slapped her._

 

_“Just, I need some space, Sansa. Please” He barked, his voice harsher then he probably meant to make it._

 

_“Of course” She whispered, biting back her own tears as she quickly fled the room. She nearly ran straight into his doctor._

 

_‘Miss Stark” The man steadied her, looking to her in confusion, “What’s wrong?”_

 

_“He doesn’t remember me,” She whispered, saying the words aloud, “He doesn’t remember us and I just had to tell him that his best friend is dead. He’s in pain and he doesn’t want my help”_

 

_“He suffered a traumatic brain injury, Miss Stark” The doctor sighed, “There is a chance he could regain his memories”_

 

_“But it’s slim, isn’t it?”_

 

_“Yes, I am afraid so” He nodded, “And in the meantime, I’m going to have to ask that you not tell him anything major. You cannot force memories back, it has to be natural”_

 

_“I understand” And she did. It broke her heart, but it was for Jon and his recovery. She would do anything for that._

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

She gathered her family in the waiting room before they went in to see Jon. They were all anxious though; eager to see for themselves that he was awake and healing. After the tragedy with Robb, Jon waking up was a good thing. If he had died she wasn’t sure any of them would ever recover. She knew she wouldn't have.  Her brother’s death still felt like a knife to her heart but Jon was awake. Jon was getting better.While it didn’t make the pain of their loss any less, it gave them a distraction and something to hope for. And at this moment, they needed that.

 

"He's really awake?" Arya asked eagerly, her skin tanned from her time in Braavos. She had fled there after Robb’s funeral to attend some dance school. She looked better then she had the last time they saw each other, happy even. She envied her sister. Gendry had gone with her. Thanks to Robert Baratheon, they had arrived a full day ahead of schedule on a private jet. 

 

"Yeah" She nodded, "He's awake and everything looks great,”

 

“But?” Her father prompted. He knew something was wrong. He always knew when something was wrong. He could read her like a book.

 

“He doesn’t remember anything past the year 2000” She whispered, letting it sink in with them. Her mother gasped and then reached out to grab her arm, “He doesn’t remember even going to war”

 

“Oh, Sansa” She whispered, realizing what it meant.

 

“He doesn’t remember you?” Arya questioned bluntly. She knew that Arya wasn’t thrilled about their relationship but even Arya would never wish this upon someone.

 

“No. He has retrograde amnesia caused by a traumatic brain injury from the explosion. He can’t remember those years, and we can’t tell him about it. The doctor says that we need to let him remember on his own,” She shook her head, “He thinks I’m here because I feel guilty about Robb” Her mother makes another sobbing sound when she mentioned his name, “I had to tell him when he woke up”

 

“You had to” Her father tells her, patting her shoulder, “He asked for him the second he woke up, didn’t he?”

 

“He thought Robb was pranking him, that they had drank to much” She admitted through teary eyes. It was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do. It broke her heart watching Jon realize that his best friend was dead, that his brother was gone. It broke her heart even further when she realized she couldn’t help him. He asked her to leave him for a few minutes instead, and she had. She had fled as quickly as possible, sobbing in the hallway.

 

“Oh, darling” Her mother hugged her again, whispering how sorry she was that she to go through this now too. When she broke apart, she picked Rickon up and cuddled his cheek. Her little brother was always good for comfort.

 

“Sansy” He greeted, gripping her tightly, nearly choking her. He clung to everyone now; not quite understanding why they were sad or why they said Robb was never coming back. He was afraid everyone that he let go of would disappear. It broke her heart to see him so broken at such a young age. Her parents had had to put him into therapy, but it was slow going. He was just too young for it all.

 

“Do you want to see Jon, little man?” She questioned, choking back her emotions. She had to stay strong in front of her family. She had to stay strong in front of Jon. It was hard enough already with the nurses and staff giving her pitiful glances, but she couldn’t take pity from her family either. She didn’t want it.

 

“Are you sure the doctor okayed all of going in?” Bran questioned, hovering at the entrance to the ward. She understood his reluctance. Bran had seen Jon once after his accident. He had been traumatized by it. Her father told her that the poor kid had nightmares still.

 

“He’s awake and he wants to see all of you, Bran” She told him gently, “He looks well, I promise. Let’s not keep him waiting, yeah?”

 

She ushered her family out of the waiting room and down the hallway. Arya broke off as soon as she saw Jon, awake and waiting for them.

 

“Arya” Jon exclaimed as she threw herself into his waiting arms. Envy ran through her as she watched how easily Jon hugged her, how he twisted his hand in her black hair, holding her tight as she cried. It wasn’t romantic but there was closeness there. She was jealous that he was comforting her. He clearly remembered Arya.

 

“You asshat!” Arya cried against his shoulder, “ I told you not to do anything stupid and you walk into a minefield!”

 

“Does it still count if I don’t remember it?” Jon teased weakly. Arya slapped his chest, still sobbing, “Don’t cry, I’m okay, Arry”

 

“I’m not crying” She mumbled. Jon chuckled weakly before he looked to her parents, grief clouding his features.

 

“Mr. and Mrs. Stark, I am so sorry” He whispered.

 

“No, none of that son” Her father shook his head, looking a bit choked up. He shook Jon’s hand tightly, giving him a one armed hug, “Let’s just focus on you now, and getting you better,”

 

“You don’t-”

 

“Oh, but we do, dear” Her mother told him, her voice sounding strangely thick. Her mother had been so strong through all of this, but she seemed dangerously close to breaking down as she hugged Jon tightly. Jon hugged her back, Arya now sitting beside him. Bran hugged Jon next, joining Arya on the foot of his bed. His leg lacerations had healed weeks ago, along with most of the other superficial wounds. 

 

“Where’s Rickon?” Jon questioned before settling his eyes on her. The Rickon Jon remembered was probably no more then a infant. No doubt the five year old in her arms was a bit of a shock.

 

“Go give Jon a hug, Rickon” She whispered, putting him down next to Jon. He latched onto his shoulders immediately, squeezing him tightly. Jon gripped back, ruffling his auburn curls lightly.

 

“Hey, little man” Jon greeted. Rickon didn’t reply.

 

“He’s been a bit clingy since, well,” Her mother trailed off, “He’ll probably fall asleep soon”

 

“So, the doctors were telling us that you’d be clear to go home in a day or so,” Her father stated.

 

“Yeah” Jon nodded, “Hopefully tomorrow,”

 

“You can come back home with us” Her father offered, “Your room hasn’t changed”

 

“The doctor suggested that I go back to wherever I was living before the war” Jon told them, surprising her. She hadn’t known that. She lived in his townhouse at the moment, his and Robb’s. She had been in college housing when they started seeing each other, so they usually went to her place. When the draft came just before her graduation, Robb and Jon suggested she move into their place for the time being, to watch their dogs and such, “Only problem is, I don’t know where that is or if anyone lives there,”

 

“You and Robb had a townhouse on 83 rd and Baelor,” Her father answered quietly.

 

“Had?” He questioned, probably wondering if they had sold it or something.

 

“I graduated a few weeks after you both deployed” She told him, “We all agreed that it would make sense if I moved in to watch the place while you two were gone” She whispered, trailing off at the end.

 

“Oh” Jon nodded, “Well, at least I know now”

 

“I think it would be a wise decision for you to go back with Sansa, for the time being at least,” Her mother told him, “You should be somewhere familiar. And you need someone to look out for you, walk the dogs-”

 

“Dogs?”

 

“You and Robb rescued a litter of husky a few years ago, there were six of them, one for each of us” Arya told him, “Sansa and I’s died as pup's but the other four are alive and massive. Ghost and Greywind. Yours is Ghost. He’s albino”

 

“I don’t remember” Jon muttered, rubbing his face wearily.

 

“Arya, you can’t tell him anything else. He has to try to remember,” She chided softly.

 

“That’s stupid” Arya retorted.

 

“No, she’s right, little wolf” Jon told her, “Though you’re not so little as I remember. The doctor told me I can’t force it and if I want to remember, I have to be patient”

 

“It’s okay, son” Her father gripped his shoulder, “The important thing is that you are alive and you’re on the mend. Memories can come later, and if they don’t, they don’t,”

 

“I know” Jon yawned then. They probably wore him out with everything. He usually was asleep at this time of day.

 

“Why don’t the kids and I go back to your townhouse and make sure everything is ready for you?” Her mother suggested, “Ned can stay and keep you company while you rest”

 

“You don’t have to do that, Mrs. Stark,” Jon told her.

 

“I have to face the music, dear” She replied, “Besides, I want to grab a few things of his to remember him by before we donate it, clothing wise. We’ll leave everything else until your well enough, okay?”

 

“Okay” Jon nodded slowly, “Thank you, Mrs. Stark”

 

“It’s nothing, dear,” She told him, kissing his cheek. Arya said her goodbyes next, hugging him tightly and promising to text him later. Bran hugged him as well and then she went to grab Rickon from around his neck.

 

“Come on, Rickon, time to go home”

 

“No” He mumbled, holding tighter to Jon.

 

“Pretty please, Rickon?” She gave the little boy her best puppy dog eyes, “For me?”

 

“Go with your sister, buddy” Jon told him.

 

“Okay, but just because your so sad, Sansy” Rickon explained, holding his arms out for her. Jon didn’t comment on the sad comment. He probably thought it was over Robb’s death. She picked her brother up and then reached out to grip Jon’s hand. He didn't pull away, which was something.

 

“I promise I’m not a horrible roommate” She told him quietly, “Things have changed, I’m not the same person I was back then” She would have been 18 in his last memories, a stuck up college freshman that cared about nothing and no one save for herself and her boyfriend. She had been stupid back then, so stupid. 

 

“Okay” He replied uneasily. He still probably thought she was lying. He had half expected him to question where Joffrey was throughout her time at his bedside. He hadn’t though. He mostly slept while she waited for the rest of her family. She was glad. She wasn't sure he would have wanted her to sit beside him for so long. He probably would have asked for space.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then”

 

“Yeah, see you then”

 

She bit back more tears as she left the hospital. She hadn’t even been able to kiss him goodbye or give him a hug. A one-sided handshake was all that she got. 

 

“Don’t cry, Sansy” Rickon whispered, patting her cheek.

 

“I’m trying, buddy, I really am”

 


End file.
